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    Year Nine

    01.21.2015 / FAMILY

    There was a time when the cookie sheets were not burnt and rusty, when the diamond was new, shiny, sparkling. We were young, and tan, and overly analytical. After we married, we disagreed about whether or not we should paint the walls in our Los Angeles apartment satin or eggshell. Both, we’d decided, and we slept the next year surrounded in two terrible finishes of purple – happily unhappy but deeply committed to our paint chip compromise. And then, as …

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    The Fun List

    01.19.2015 / PLAY

    I am not the fun friend, the one you call when your book proposal was just accepted and are in dire need of some celebratory dancing and perhaps Paris. No, I am the friend you call when your book proposal was declined, and your heart is in two, three, four parts and you need some talking on the couch and a full cup of coffee. Over the years, I have slowly come into this – a single goldfish growing into …

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    Wardrobe 25

    01.13.2015 / PLAY

    Well, I didn’t expect to talk about this today, but here it is and here I am. For the past few months, I’ve been wearing the same clothes – 25 of them – over and over and over. It’s not earth-shattering, the idea of minimalism, and I’d even argue that it’s trendy to be a minimalist, which makes me like the concept eight thousand times less, but sometimes trends are here because they’re good, and easy, and smart. (How’s that …

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    One Morning

    01.12.2015 / OTHER

    There are days when a group of objects are placed just so. There is a bowl of sunlit fruit casting shadows over a wilting flower on the dining room table he’d built with his hands, before the baby, when we were two. Bowls stacked, ready and able, and there is coffee. A white mug, oversized – obscenely large in my hand, like a mother’s heel on a toddler foot. Grandiose, elephantine. Vast. The components of our morning – scene one …

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    A Week of Sparrows

    01.08.2015 / OTHER

    On Sunday morning, I’d sit in a hard pew sandwiched between my two wavy-haired, lacy-socked sisters – passing notes about whether or not we thought our mother might let us stop for roast beef and milkshakes after service. We’d sing “Victory in Jesus” from red, dusty hymnals and I’d secretly pray to the Lord that Yolanda didn’t stand up during our benediction postlude to offer a testimony about how God had healed her third hernia that year. (She did, still, …

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    Pass The Bag

    01.05.2015 / OTHER

    So, we’ve been simplifying. I know you know this, because it’s a fairly strong current that’s been running through every word I’ve shared in the past year, maybe longer? Broken record over here. (But I kind of like the scratch.) Ever the cliche, January sounds like the perfect time to clean out a closet or two, yes? I’d been slowly purging 75% of my wardrobe over the past three months (wayyyyy more on that later), so when Schoola asked to …

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